The God of Salsa
by TheEmberRaven
Summary: Evan buys a jar of spicy salsa, and the boys turn it into a pain contest. Teen for profanity.
1. Chapter 1

**The God of Salsa**

**Summary:** Evan buys a jar of extremely spicy salsa, and the boys turn it into a pain contest.

**A/N: I'm back! I've been busy with school lately, but luckily the storm is passing and I'm free! So yeah, I'm back to writing every day now, so there will be more frequent updates and new stories. Woohoo!**

**BTW, this is my first story from a 1st person POV so I hope it's ok. Enjoy.**

oOo

I was walking through the isles of the Bayville Supermarket, feeling like a sissy with a shopping cart in front of me and a long shopping list in my hands. Aunty O was in the next isle, humming to herself. I could hear her all the way over here, which make me more embarrassed. So, why am I grocery shopping, you might ask?

Well, see, whenever we have to go shopping, Aunty O asks someone to come with her, to help her get stuff and carry the bags, etc. No one wants to spend five hours in the store, so we draw straws, and the loser goes along. Guess what? I lost. And so here I am, scanning the soup isle for Chicken Noodle with low sodium. As if my day could get any worse.

I picked up nine cans of soup and chucked them in the cart. I checked chicken soup off the list. _Great, only twenty-two more items to go_, I thought sarcastically. I moved on. As I was leaving the isle, I passed a row of salsas. I saw one that looked really good, so I plucked it off the shelf and added it to the cart. "Can't hurt," I muttered out loud. Besides, we were buying a billion things. Aunty O wouldn't notice one extra item.

I continued on to get pickles (yuck), potato chips, sweet Asian cooking sauce (whatever that's for), pretzels, rice, beans, and so on and so forth. I lost track after rice and beans. My cart was embarrassingly full, but I finally had everything on the list. I walked around trying to find Aunty O, while feeling very self-conscious of the looks I was getting from other shoppers. I must have looked like an idiot to them. Or some pathetic, starving kid. Who knows.

I found her in the frozen isle, piling ice cream cartons into her cart. My mouth watered a little. "Well, I guess the trip here wasn't a total bust after all," I said, eyeing the glorious ice cream.

She rolled her eyes at me. "What is it with teenage boys and ice cream?" I shrugged. "Well, anyway, that's everything on my half of the list. Are you finished, Evan?"

"Yep. Got it all right here," I said, patting the side of my overloaded cart.

"Good. Let's check out."

I won't bore you with the details. Let's just say, I could have skateboarded from the Institute to school and back again probably ten times in the time it took us to check out. Which reminds me—I never want to help my aunt with the shopping again. I can see why everyone groans at the thought. Feeding 20-some people takes a lot of food. A lot.

We loaded the bags into the van, which took up the entire back two rows. I stepped back to look at it all. "Dude, that's a lot of food," I commented, trying to imagine how long it would take us to put it away once we got back to the Institute. Luckily, Kitty and Rouge were willing to help with groceries, so it might not be too bad.

"Well, that is enough food for about twenty students—plus the teachers—for two weeks, Evan. It takes a lot to feed every one." I groaned and put my seatbelt on.

"Yeah, I noticed." I never, ever wanted to do shopping again.

oOo

It turned out that Kitty and Rouge weren't willing to help with the groceries when we got back (they were busy watching American Idol and making fun of the singers), and Aunty O got called away by the Professor, leaving me alone. I was almost done putting away the fruits and veggies when Bobby walked into the kitchen. He glanced at me, looked away, then glanced back.

"Doing the groceries?" I nodded. Duh.

"Ouch, I feel the pain, man," he continued, laughing a little. He came up beside me and rummaged through a bag. "You guys buy any chips?" I nodded again.

Just then, he removed my jar of salsa. "Oh, what's this? Hot salsa? Man, I love this stuff."

I shrugged and handed him a bag of chips. "Knock yourself out, dude. Just don't eat all that salsa. It's mine."

Bobby nodded as he pried the lid off. He dipped his pinky into the salsa and tasted it. His face turned slightly red. "Hot!" he cried, ripping open the bag of chips and shoving a handful into his mouth.

I chuckled. "No kiddin'. I warned you, Bobby. It says 'hot' right on the label." I pointed to the little warning.

Bobby swallowed. "Yeah, but that stuff's like fire. They need a safety label on that. 'This salsa is hazardous to your health' or something."

"Vhat's hazardous to your health?" Kurt asked, just coming into the kitchen. Sam and Scott were with him.

"This salsa. Try it, guys. It's fireball salsa," Bobby offered. I snatched the salsa jar from his hands.

"Dude, it's my salsa," I said, glaring at him. I looked at Kurt, Sam, and Scott. "You guys can have a little bit, but don't go crazy."

They eagerly grabbed chips and began dipping into the salsa. "Gah, hot!" Sam said, running for the milk.

"S'not zo bad," Kurt concluded, but he had a funny expression on his face. "Hot, but not bad."

"That stuff is fireball salsa," Scott agreed. "But it's pretty good."

I tried a little myself. It wasn't so hot. "Bobby, you just can't take the heat, man. This is nice stuff."

"No, it's hot alright," Scott threw in. "I can take it, but it's definitely hot."

"Ja, that's pretty intense," Kurt added.

I shrugged. "You know they sell stuff way spicier than this, don't yah?"

"Really?" Sam asked.

I nodded. "Oh yeah."

"Oh, guys, I just had a cool idea," Scott interjected. "Why don't we have a hot salsa contest? The guy who can take the hottest salsa wins."

"I'd do it," Bobby agreed.

"Me too," Kurt and Sam said together. I nodded.

"Sure. What the heck. On one condition: someone else buys the salsas. I'm tired of shopping. I don't want to set foot in a supermarket for at least a year."

"I'll go get it," Scott offered. "I'm sure I can find some seriously hot stuff."

"Sounds good," we all agreed.

oOo

Scott returned about thirty minutes later. He had two grocery bags filled with salsa jars. We eagerly lined them up on the counter and examined them. Scott was lookin' pretty proud of himself, and it was no wonder. He'd gotten some crazy salsas with epic names like: Fuckin' Hot, 100% Chance of Pain, Liquid Lava, and Brain Damage Hot Salsa. I laughed.

"Oh god, this is gonna be fun."

The others nodded. "I never knew hot sauces had so many names," Bobby commented.

"Ja, really," Kurt added.

Scott chuckled. "You guys should have seen the brands I didn't buy. There were some ones I couldn't get for…uh…obvious reasons."

Sam grinned. "We know."

I looked back at the salsas, which had been lined up in a spectrum of pain. "Alright, are we ready to start?" I asked.

The other guys nodded. "Oh yeah."

oOo

**A/N: Bwwahahahaha! What happens next? Who will win the salsa contest? Oh, well, I guess you'll just have to wait for the next chapter. BTW, all those salsa names are real brands of salsa (or hot sauces) that you can buy in stores. Who knew, right?**

**-The Ember Raven**


	2. Chapter 2

**The God of Salsa**

**A/N: This is what I get for taking Honors Classes—sleepless nights, studying til 1 AM, and no time for Fan Fiction. *Cries*. Hopefully, since I just finished a big project, I'll have more free time. Here's the second chappie for The God of Salsa….**

oOo

We were all ready for the hot salsa contest. Scott had grabbed Kitty and asked her to be the official witness to the contest. She reluctantly agreed, saying she just wanted to see us in pain. She seemed convinced that we were gonna suffer, especially after reading some of the salsa labels.

"Gosh, this one has a safety warning on it. 'Not responsible for personal injury?'" She glanced up at us. "You guys seriously going to eat this? It looks dangerous…"

I nodded. "Yup. We are. That one's the grand finale, by the way," I said, motioning to the jar in her hands. She set it back down on the counter.

"Well, let's get started." She smiled and handed us each a big spoon. "I'll pass around the salsa, and everyone has to take a big scoop and eat the whole thing," she explained, picking up the first jar in the line of pain. She screwed off the lid and handed it to Scott. Scott took a big spoonful of salsa and glanced at it confidently. Next, Bobby took a spoonful. Then me. Then Kurt, then Sam. "Alright, guys. Go."

We all put the spoons in our mouths. The spoonful of hot salsa tasted like watered down fire. It felt a sharp burning in my mouth. I swallowed it quickly and removed the spoon from my mouth. Beside me, Bobby was coughing.

"H….hot!" he said.

"Duh," Kitty snorted, rolling her eyes. She was totally unsympathetic to our pain. "Ready for the next round guys, or do you want a moment to recover?"

Scott, being all macho-y, said, "Nah, let's have it now. That wasn't so bad," he added, adjusting his posture to look taller and more confident. I could see the tightness in his face. Yup, he thought it was hot.

"Ok…." Kitty agreed, opening the next jar in the spectrum of pain and passing it around. "Remember," she said, as Scott was digging his spoon into the salsa, "when you're ready to quit, just say 'I'm done.' I don't want one of you guys to, like, burn your mouths or something. It can happen."

Scott scoffed. He said: "Riiiight. We can take it, Kitty. Where's your faith in us?"

"I have faith in your stupidity, if that's what you mean," she retorted with a small smirk. "You guys work so hard to prove your manliness." She shook her head, as if finding our efforts amusing in some way. How could we expect her to understand? It was a guy thing.

We all ate the next round of salsa. This salsa was sweeter than the last, but the spiciness factor went up. I twisted my mouth uncomfortably and gulped it down. Bobby gasped and spat his salsa out. Yuck.

"I give up," he wheezed. Kitty smiled again.

"There, there, Bobby," she comforted him. "My respect for you just went up a fraction of an inch." Bobby cleaned up the salsa on the floor and sat beside Kitty to watch us torture ourselves.

"Wimp," Scott whispered out the side of his mouth.

Sam, Kurt, and I chuckled. We shut up when Kitty passed around the next jar: 100% Chance of Pain. I dug my spoon in halfway, not wanting to put all that in my mouth. Kitty gave me a look and I scooped a bit more onto my spoon. When we all had a heaping spoonful of hot salsa, we put them in our mouths. This salsa was very hot, and the bitter aftertaste made it really nasty. I saw Sam turning a funny shade of green nearby. He looked a little sick, but he swallowed, gasped, and gave a thumbs up. Kurt wasn't looking so good either. If he was turning green, I couldn't see it, but his eyes bugged out a little and he twisted his mouth into a funny shape.

"Sam? You sure you're ok?" Kitty asked. Sam nodded.

"Can we have a little break?" he asked. Kitty nodded, and we decided to get a drink of water.

"Get out the milk," Kurt instructed, going for the fridge. "Acids and bases cancel out."

Scott nodded and went with him to the fridge for milk. Sam and I followed suit. Milk did sound good, anyhow. We poured ourselves each a tall glass and drank until our mouths felt better. We took out glasses back with us, in case we needed something quick. Kitty nodded with approval.

"Smart, guys. You all recovered now?"

"Yeah."

"Yup."

We ate the next round of salsa. Sam dropped out, but not before chugging down his whole glass of milk. "I can't take that stuff," he grumbled, joining Kitty and Bobby. That just left Kurt, Scott, and I.

We had five salsas left. On the next round, Kurt was out. I had to admit, my mouth was burning like crazy too, but I managed to swallow and carry on. Now, it was just Scott versus moi. We had four salsas left.

We got to the salsa called Fuckin' Hot, and it was aptly named so, let me tell you. I felt like my stomach acid was in my mouth, eating the flesh from the inside out. It was mucho painful. Scott and I took the entire gallon of milk out of the fridge and kept it between us, because a glass of milk between salsas wasn't enough.

Up next was Liquid Lava, also named appropriately. Swallowing it down was very painful, like swallowing down too much hot coffee at once and burning the back of your throat. Only worse. Scott coughed a little, and looked like he was done.

"You ready to give up yet?" I rasped. My throat felt like raw meat.

Scott put on a brave face. "No. Why, are you?" he challenged.

"Hell no. Bring it on, dude."

He glared at me. Kitty just sighed and passed around the next salsa. We each took some. Scott and I glanced at each other as we put the spoons in our mouths. He was looking for signs of weakness, and so was I. Kurt, Sam, and Bobby were cheering us on. Sam and Bobby were cheering for Scott. Traitors. Kurt was calling my name. Well, it was nice to know my buddy was stickin' by me.

At this point, Scott looked quite sick. His face turned red, then green, like a stoplight. I was gasping for breath and running for the milk. It wasn't pretty. But Scott managed to hold on, and so did I. "One more round," he choked out. Kitty looked at us, seemed a bit concerned.

"It's a miracle you guys don't kill yourselves," she muttered, giving us a small break. After we had a breather, she whipped out the next jar. It was Brain Damage salsa. My stomach churned just looking at it, but I gingerly stuck my spoon into the salsa. I could smell the hotness of it. I wrinkled my nose and stuck the spoon in my mouth. Scott did the same. We both watched each other out the corner of our eyes.

As we ate, I could tell Scott was really struggling. His mouth twitched, as if he was gonna spit out the salsa like Bobby had. Then he turned green again and he said, "I…I quit." He ran over to the sink and spat the salsa out. He stuck his mouth under the faucet and let the water pour into his mouth. I swallowed and swigged down the rest of the gallon of milk. My mouth was amazingly painful, but I'd eaten the salsa without giving up.

"I guess Evan wins," Kitty announced, smiling and walking over to pat me on the back.

"You gonna be ok?" Kurt asked, punching me lightly in the ribs.

"Yeah. I a second." I let the burning sensation slowly dissipate. The others cheered and Scott….well, he complained about the contest being unfair and that he should have won, etc, but mumbled an "I guess you win," to my face then went back to grumbling and brooding.

Inside, I was happy. Sure, I'd just won a stupid salsa contest, big deal, but my ego was riding the wave of victory. I'd done it. I was a conqueror. A god. The God of Salsa.

*Fin*

oOo

**A/N: The end! Yeeaah and I'm sorry about not updating this in forever. I do have a life, you know. It may not seem like it, but I do get off the computer every now and then and participate in the world. Anyway, whatever. Hope you liked it.**

**-The Ember Raven**


End file.
